The soldiers of the 37th Regiment could naturally serve as the backbone of construction, but that did not mean the original residents were worthless.
Oedmeir had finally laid out the first batch of semi-automated production lines, and all that remained was for the workers to enter the factories.
One morning, Sam, now in his thirties, woke from bed. He had long grown accustomed to this routine; almost as soon as the sun's light broke through the darkness of dawn, he would wake on his own.
He lay there woodenly for a while, gradually feeling his mind begin to stir. The warmth beneath the covers made his body feel heavier and heavier. He knew he could not keep lying there, or he really would not be able to get up.
He sprang out of bed and folded his blanket into a neat block. Sam looked around the house assigned to him. Its walls were grayish white, harder than the toughest stone he had ever seen.
The walls felt smooth to the touch, but did not reflect light. Ventilation slits and windows for daylight ran in a narrow strip around the room. Standing on a small platform thirty centimeters high, Sam could see everything outside through the windows.
They all said this sort of design was only found in bunkers, but no one had ever seen every building made into a bunker. Since those frightening soldiers had replaced the splendid Knight Corps, everyone's lives had changed tremendously.
First, the old city had been completely torn down. Then, everyone had been required to attend classes held by those terrifying soldiers at night. The Emperor above, he had lived this long without knowing a single word, much less learning all that complicated stuff.
Those soldiers were all monstrously strong, able to lift a person